


The Opera

by bovaria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:17:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bovaria/pseuds/bovaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione runs into someone she hasn’t seen in years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Opera

Hermione took a few deep breaths, only for them to be in vain. They did nothing to calm her growing frustration and she let her arms fall lax on her sides as her hair stubbornly refused to be tamed. She had tried all sorts of spells on it, but her attempts were futile. Her hair wasn’t having any of it tonight. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek and glared at her reflection in the mirror before glancing at the clock perched on the bedside table. There was only half an hour left before the driver she had hired would arrive to pick her up from the hotel.

Despite having the liberty to apparate wherever she please in wizarding Manhattan, it was a different scenario when she found herself in the muggle world. Hermione opted to stay in the non-magical part of the vast city in order to have easier access to all the attractions and popular tourist spots she had often read about as she grew up. She was absolutely fascinated by the city and had come to silently thank Harry and Ginny for having forced her to make this trip.

She had just broken up with Ron. It had been a tumultuous affair and she had holed herself up in her flat. She was rather comfortable with just her books, tea, and Crookshanks’ company, yet her friends thought otherwise.

“Blimey, Hermione,” Harry had said as he and Ginny pushed into her home after two weeks of isolation from her part. “You need to get out a bit more.”

“He’s right,” Ginny gave Hermione a smile laden with pity that prompted a disgruntled scowl from her. She was aware that she didn’t look her best, but she didn’t need them pointing it out.

“I’m doing just fine,” she crossed her arms and glared at the pair of them.

“No, you’re not,” Harry shook his head. “You’re completely mental! Isolating yourself for more than two weeks, Hermione! That’s basically lunacy. You need to get out, go on a vacation.”

“Oh, rubbish,” Hermione rolled her eyes. “I need no such thing. I’ve just been catching up on books I had neglected due to dating…” her voice trailed off sadly, instigating a sympathetic look from Harry and Ginny.

There was a moment of silence before Harry clapped his hands, startling Hermione and causing Crookshanks to hiss at being roused so suddenly. She shot him a scathing look, but Harry paid no mind to it and turned towards her bedroom. Without requesting permission from her, he made his way towards it, Hermione and Ginny following close behind.

“Luckily for you, my dear Hermione,” Harry announced as he began to rummage through her closet until he was finally able to locate her suitcase. “Ah-ha!” he declared victoriously.

“Have you gone completely insane?” Hermione snatched the baggage from an excited Harry and shot Ginny an inquiring glance.

At least she had the decency to look sheepish as she answered Hermione’s unasked inquiry. “We sort of took the liberty,” Ginny grinned innocently at her before continuing. “Of preparing an international portkey for you.”

Before Hermione could protest against this, Harry raised his hands in the air and smiled widely. “You will be going to no other than the beautiful New York City!”

“I most certainly am not!” Hermione huffed. “I get back to work on Monday, Harry.”

“That has already been arranged,” Harry waved her excuse away. “Your portkey leaves in an hour, so you might want to pack quickly.”

“I am not going,” Hermione stomped her foot on the ground stubbornly.

“Oh, yes, you are,” Harry laughed heartily at her.

And she did. It took a whole lot of coaxing, but she eventually let them help her pack and drag her to where she had to take the portkey to Manhattan. Before long, she was stepping through the Wizarding part of the bustling city, jaw slack at the wonder of it all.

She took full advantage of her two-week stay and visited as many interesting places as she could, opting to eat in the hidden places locals told her about and becoming overly excited when she discovered tiny bookstores not frequented by many tourists.

A Friday evening right before she was due back in England, Hermione decided to splurge on an entrance ticket to see the Phantom of the Opera and enjoyed an impromptu shopping trip to a muggle Mall where she purchased an evening gown just for the occasion. She was excited to be able to see the internationally-renowned play and enthusiastically got ready for the evening before her hair decided that it wasn’t going to cooperate with her.

Hermione tried everything, from spells to trying to sweet talk the tresses into being tamed, but it was all fruitless. Her hair just wouldn’t listen and she grumbled frustratingly to herself. Her makeup and gown were both finished, all she needed was her hair to look presentable in order to not make a fool out of herself in the opera house.

Deciding to try one last time, she pointed the wand at her hair and muttered a spell. She wanted to squeal as she saw that it had finally cooperated and a neat low bun was perched on the right side of the nape of her neck. She gave it a pleased glanced before getting on her feet and making her way to the beautiful French mirror adjacent to the room’s closet. She smiled softly to herself as she took her reflection in.

Hermione was positive she hadn’t look this good since the Yule Ball in her fourth year at Hogwarts. The column gown was red with crystal beading and a halter neckline. Her back was bare, but that was what the beautiful, ebony coat she had purchased was for. She smirked at herself and gathered her purse and coat in her hands before gracefully stepping out of her room.

Once at the opera house, Hermione found it relatively easy to weave through the crowd and locate her seat. The attendant on duty was helpful and she had noticed how his eyes wandered down her frame more than once. She felt smug about herself and sat down with a tiny smirk playing on her lips, focused on the red curtains onstage. She had always wanted to see the Phantom of the Opera live and she couldn’t quite believe that she was about to.

“Pinch me,” she muttered to herself.

“Now, Granger, I would, but I don’t think it’s proper for me to do so after not seeing you for years,” a familiar voice drawled out and Hermione’s shoulders stiffened, breath catching in her throat. She closed her eyes and silently prayed that the man sitting next to her wasn’t who she thought it was, but knew that her hopes were in vain.

“Malfoy,” she gritted out through clenched teeth as she turned to look at him, scorching glare in place.

“How are you this fine evening?” he asked politely, despite the arrogant smirk dancing on his lips.

“What are you doing here?” she harshly whispered, eyes narrowed.

“Enjoying this work of art!” Malfoy announcing, waving a hand towards the stage. “I’ve heard wonderful things about this Muggle play and decided to check it out for myself.”

“Oh, sod off,” Hermione scoffed, holding herself back from petulantly crossing her arms and slouching in her seat.

“Come on, Granger,” Malfoy leaned towards her, voice dropping low. “We’re in a foreign city, nobody knows about us. Let’s have some fun.”

“I said, bugger off, Malfoy,” Hermione glared at him.

Malfoy smirked before turning his eyes towards the front of the auditorium. The lights began to grow dimmer and Hermione straightened in her seat, more than ready for the play to begin. She wanted to pull at her hair at her luck. It was just bloody perfect that Draco Malfoy had purchased the seat right next to hers. She was thinking of ways to hex him when the music began and she became enraptured in the play.

That evening, Hermione learned the value of self-control. Malfoy kept making small offhand comments on the play every now and then, choosing to voice them right next to her ear and distracting her from the story unfolding before her. Hermione would try to hush him up, threatening to hex his lips off, but it was to no avail. Malfoy seemed adamant in keeping a conversation with her despite her increasing annoyance and seemed happy to get her angry as he went on whispering in her ear.

“Malfoy,” she turned to him as the curtains closed and the crowd began to applaud loudly. “You’re making it very tempting for me to hex your bollocks off right about now.”

Malfoy clicked his tongue and looked appalled at her statement. “My, Hermione, you wouldn’t dare,” he brought a hand to his chest and Hermione tried to ignore how naturally her name sounded rolling off his tongue. Instead, she glared at him before getting on her feet and clapping as the actors stepped out to thank their audience.

Once it was all over, Hermione was more than eager to escape Malfoy’s company and began to make her way down the row. She sighed in relief when Malfoy didn’t stop her and hastily exited the building after fetching her coat from the front desk. She was about to begin her journey back to the hotel when an inebriated man clashed into her, sending her reeling to the floor.

“What the fuck?” the man got on his knees, glaring at her. “Watch where you’re going, lady!” he exclaimed before his arm swung upwards. Hermione was still staggering from the fall and was making to reach for her wand when a hand took firm hold of the drunk’s forearm and tossed him back. The man howled in pain and Hermione scrambled to look at her defender. She gasped as she recognized the sharp features and white-blond hair.

“Are you alright, Hermione?” Malfoy knelt beside her, gently cupping her face and assessing her to check for damage.

“I-I’m fine,” she stammered out. “T-Thank you, Malfoy.”

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled softly. Hermione was somewhat puzzled at seeing this, not used to seeing such gentle features being displayed on his face. Whenever Draco Malfoy addressed her, it usually was with disdain and a cantankerous scowl on his lips.

He held out his hand for her and after a few moments of reluctance, she finally decided to take it, letting him pull her up to her feet. He gently brushed off the dirt from her coat and dress and Hermione could only stand there, mouth agape and eyes wide in surprise. What in the hell had happened to Draco Malfoy since she had last seen him?

“Catching flies?” he smirked at her, straightening up and brushing away at his own suit. Hermione shut her mouth closed and pursed her lips, squinting her eyes at him. She didn’t fail to notice just how fit he looked and how time had been quite kind to Malfoy. He was tall and thin, but she observed how he had gained muscle over the years and the elegant fluidity in which he moved. He was quite the charmer and Hermione was quickly becoming ensnared.

Hermione cleared her throat as her eyes met his and she realized that he knew that she had just been checking him out, a smirk painted on his lips. “W-Well, I must be going now,” she bowed her head politely. “Thank you, once again, Malfoy.”

She turned on the balls of her feet and began to walk away from Draco Malfoy when, to her dismay, she realized that she was going the wrong way. Her driver was waiting for her on the east side of the building and she was heading west. She stopped walking and turned her head to look behind her, internally groaning as she saw that Malfoy had not made to move.

“Is there a problem, Hermione?” he called out to her.

Hermione turned around and plastered a sarcastic smile on her face. “No, nothing,” she said with finality, brushing past him with her nose in the air.

“Wait,” Malfoy called out, fingers gently wrapping around her elbow and pausing her steps. Hermione turned to give him an inquiring glance and was surprised to find Malfoy looking almost nervous. He brought his free hand to rub at the back of his neck as he smiled fretfully.

“Well?” Hermione asked.

“W-Would you fancy a drink?” his voice was soft and Hermione couldn’t help but to smile, rapidly finding this side of Malfoy endearing. “I-I’m aware that it’s quite late, but this is Manhattan and I will take you back to your hotel in one piece, you have my word. Just that, well, now that we’re here, might as well spend some time together—”

“You’re rambling, Draco,” Hermione placed a hand on his forearm, laughing softly. Draco scowled down at her, but it held no venom in it, only embarrassment. She remained quiet for a few more seconds, reveling in his growing fidgeting before answering. “I’d love a few drinks. After all, it wasn’t easy listening to your little comments while the play went on.”

Draco immediately perked up at her words before leering at her. “You enjoyed every single one of them,” he said, holding out his arm for her.

“Absolutely not,” she scoffed. She found it weird how easy it seemed to loop her arm through Draco’s and fall into step with him.

He directed them towards a nearby bar and the two of them shared their adventures in the city. To Hermione’s pleasant surprise, Draco had warmed up to the muggle world and now enjoyed many of its entertainments, only to realize it was only because he had been isolated from the wizarding community after the war. She tried not to dwell on that thought too much and let herself laugh at his jokes, enjoying his amusing company.

Close to two in the morning, Hermione glanced at her watch and exclaimed at the time. Draco smiled at her before standing up and walking out of the bar with her. Hermione would berate herself in the morning, but she found it easy to lean against Draco and blame it on the liquor coursing through her veins and making her feel tipsy. Draco didn’t seem to mind as he interlaced his fingers through hers and pulled her close to him.

They walked towards her hotel and he asked if she wanted to be taken all the way up to her room. She shook her head and smiled up at him, thanking him for the wonderful night. Draco only smiled and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, thumb stroking her cheekbone. Hermione’s eyes fluttered closed and she brought her hands up to rest on Draco’s firm chest. She reveled in the sensation of having him cup her face and inhaled in relief when she felt his warm lips gently press against her own.

By the time they parted, their breaths were short and fast. Draco opened his eyes first and smiled at the sight before him. Hermione’s lips were swollen from his kisses and her cheeks were a beautiful shade of pink. He controlled his elated expression as her eyes opened and she focused her attention on the sharp edges of his face.

“Would you like to have lunch with me tomorrow?” he asked in a low voice.

“I’d love that,” she answered, forgetting all about the portkey she had to take back home.


End file.
